


Reward

by earthseed_fic



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Library Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:49:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthseed_fic/pseuds/earthseed_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She deserved a reward for her hard work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reward

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the lovely Women in the Renner fandom. Thanks to wtijfrt, rachbrandt, and prsnrothmomnt for the beta.

There were a whole host of reasons to pack up her notes and her laptop and head to the library on a Sunday evening. Working at her house was no good—there was always a load of laundry or pile of dishes or a dusty bookshelf to distract her from the article she was trying to finish. Her office was no better—her desk was piled high with work she'd been neglecting, including two sets of students papers and her department's annual report. Coffee shops weren't nearly as comfortable to work in as people claimed; plus she felt guilty unless she bought at least one menu item for each hour she spent there. That added up.

So, the campus library was her best bet if she really wanted to get this article done tonight. 

Really.

She had reasons.

Plus the library had its perks. She caught a glimpse of one of them as she settled into one of the carrels located in the far west corner of the library's third floor, nearest the library's Special Collections department. He was getting off the elevator, oblivious to his surroundings, reading through a stack of papers as we walked to his office. He was dressed in jeans, a gray thermal, and leather jacket, and looked too delicious for words. She only got a few moments to watch him undetected, though. When he stopped to fish his keys out his pocket to open up the front door to Special Collections, he noticed her at the carrel.

She tried to look inconspicuous, feeling a little guilty about getting caught staring, but failed completely when he flashed her a crooked grin and said, "Hey, mama."

"Hey, yourself," she said, studiously ignoring the way her stomach did a dozen little flips, as it always did, at the sound of his whisky smooth drawl.

"Working late?"

"Trying to finish this article."

"I don't want to disturb you."

"No worries. I'm just getting started. What about you? Is there some kind of special collections emergency?"

"Nothing so exciting as that. Just catching up on some work while the office is quiet."

"I won't keep you, then. It was really nice seeing you again."

"Same here."

With one last grin, he disappeared into the depths of the Special Collections offices. She allowed herself one last look before turning her attention back to her article (a task made considerably more difficult by the lingering scent of his cologne). "How is he even real?" she muttered to herself as she booted up her computer.

10 minutes later, she was interrupted by polite throat clearing and a sheepish grin.

"You can say no if you want to," he began. She was hard pressed to think of anything she would refuse him. "Would you like to work in my office?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet?"

"Unless you're planning on table dancing in there, I think I'll be fine." There was a flash of heat in his expression, a quick moment of his eyes traveling down her body and back up again. Then, "The internet connection's faster inside the office. You can work at our conference table, which has a lot more space than this carrel. Plus, the coffee is free and limitless." He smiled and she wondered if any one ever turned him down.

"Sure," she said. "How can I refuse an offer like that?"

He helped her gather her things and got her settled. They walked through a door past reception area. She'd never been inside the Special Collections offices before. It was different than she'd imagined. The librarians' offices were a series of 5 cubicles arranged around a conference table. There were several work tables behind the cubicles, piled high with books, papers, magazines, journals, frames, matting materials. And there were two more offices, one to the left and one to the right, that had walls and doors separating them from the main work area. She assumed these were for the director and associate director.

"Which office is yours?"

He points to a cubicle to their left. His jacket was laying across his desk, as if tossed there carelessly, and the folder he was reading earlier was in his chair. It occurred to her that he hadn't yet settled in to do any work. That he'd come in after talking to her, dropped his stuff at his desk, and, then, almost immediately, come back out to invite her to join him. The thought made her a little giddy. "Thanks for letting me crash," she said as she sat down. "I'll promise I won't disturb you."

"Let me know if you need anything," he said before turning to his own work.

Working in close proximity to Jeremy Fucking Renner (which is was how she always referred to him in her head) was a lot easier said than done. He worked quietly, sure, but he was still, easily, the most distracting man she'd ever known. She was positioned so that she sat directly across from his desk. She had a perfect view of him sitting spread eagle in his chair. She caught each stretch of the neck, each time he ran his hands through his hair, each time he bit his lips in concentration. And really, she could probably have handled all of that. She could have ignored her raging hormones and the slick heat between her legs and just done her damn her work if he hadn't rolled the sleeves of the grey thermal up to his elbows. Now all she could see were veins and muscles flexing with each tap of the keyboard. She let a loud, frustrated sigh escape as she thought to herself, 'He has to be doing this on purpose.'

"Hey," he said. She blushed a little, hoping she hadn't been caught staring. "You want some coffee?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." Actually, the last thing she wanted was caffeine. She didn't think she could stand being any more keyed up, but he would have to leave the room and she could really use a break to catch her breath.

He had two mugs when he returned. He set them both on the conference table and sat down in the chair next to her. "We have a problem," he said. 

"Oh?"

"There's no way I can get anything done with you sitting across from me."

"What? Why?"

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?"

She was caught off-guard by this. Sure, they'd be flirting. She could feel the sexual attraction thrumming between them. But to have him state it so plainly—she was floored.

"And that fact means you can't work?"

He nodded. "All I can think about is running my hands up underneath your skirt, feeling the heat of your thighs against my skin, kissing those sexy fucking shoulders. You are hell on a guy's work ethic."

"Me?" she scoffed. "You've been doing nothing but teasing me for the last hour. Who works with their legs cocked open like that? Your jeans are incredibly tight." She smiled at him and her mock outrage broke the tension a bit.

"How much longer do you need to finish up here?" he asked.

"About an hour, if I work diligently. And if you stop stretching, or whatever is you're doing, at your desk."

He laughed. "Fair enough. I'll see what I can do." He took one of her hands in his and rubbed his thumb back and forth across her wrist. "Any plans after? To celebrate finishing the article?"  
"Well, I had planned to go home, collapse, and sleep for three days."

He pinned her with the hottest, most intense stare she'd ever encountered. "Oh, I think we can do better than that, mama."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Fifty-six minutes later she was clicking save and preparing to shut down her computer when Jeremy leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "All done?"

He'd braced himself on the table by reaching around her and placing a hand on either side of her laptop. She indulged herself and leaned back into his shoulder. "Yep. You're just in time." And now she looked up at him. "I believe I was promised a reward."

The look he gave her in response was equal parts anticipation and determination, and the accompanying quick lick of his lips was all kinds of sinful. "C'mon," he said, holding out his hand.

She took it and he led her to one of the closed offices. The office turned out to be a conference room. Three of the four walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases, and the bookcases themselves were filled with what she could easily see were antique maps and rare books. A large, round conference table sat in the middle of the room, and around it were six high back brown leather chairs. The table was set with a tablecloth, two wine glasses, a cupcake box, and a bottle of wine.

"When did you do this?" 

"While you were working," he shrugged.

"You went out and bought wine and cupcakes?" She didn't know if she more incredulous or impressed.

"Well, the wine was already here in the office. We celebrate a lot here in Special Collections." God, that crooked grin was going to be the death of her. "The cupcakes are from the café downstairs. I remembered you said you liked the red velvet. And the room was empty, so…"

"Thank you. Really." She moved to sit in one of the chairs. "Join me."

He opened the wine and poured a glass for each of them. In addition to the red velvet, he'd also gotten a salted caramel dark chocolate cupcake and a sweet potato cupcake. They ate and talked and drank wine and the whole thing felt so decadent and sexy and so fucking *good*. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this good. Or this turned on.

They sat with their chairs facing each other, knees just inches away from touching. As she finished the last of the wine, she said, "Good wine. Cupcakes. Old books. A girl could get used to this."

"If I'm being honest," he said, his voice low,"my intentions aren't entirely honorable."

Her pulse sped up at the naughty gleam in his eye, "No?"  
"Can I tell you something?" he asked. He placed a hand on each of her thighs and leaned in.

Her mouth was suddenly dry. "Sure."

"I've wanted to kiss you for weeks."

"Why haven't you?" His hands were moving slowly up her thighs to her waist and she was having trouble forming a coherent thought.

"It seems kind of presumptuous to ask a woman for a kiss before I've even asked her out on a proper date."

She could feel the heat of his large hands through her skirt. "Is *this* a date?"

He gave her a small shrug and a sheepish grin, but the heat in his gaze was unmistakable.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" She hoped her tone was teasing and light, that it didn't betray the desperate want that had been building all evening.

"Is it working?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So can I? Kiss you?"

She answered by capturing his mouth in her own. He responded by leaning in, using one hand to cup her neck and pull her closer, the other to work her skirt up her thighs. Sure that he had permission, he was bold, kissing her so well and so thoroughly that she couldn't do anything but moan and melt into his touch. They kept at it for a few minutes, learning and exploring the feel and taste of the other. When she finally backed away to come up for air, he didn't let her go far.

Her skirt was bunched up at her waist, her hair, she was sure, was a complete mess from where he'd been running his fingers through it, and her legs were open wide in scandalous invitation. She was sure she looked every bit as wanton as she felt. She took a great deal of satisfaction to see that he too looked completely undone. And the (huge!) bulge in his jeans made her mouth water. 

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the play of his fingers along the edges of her panties. "I want to taste you," he said, voice low and rough and wrecked.

"Here?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied. And without warning he put one arm under her legs, one around her waist, lifted her from her chair and placed her on the table. He leaned in for a quick, sloppy kiss, and then let his tongue travel down the side of her neck and across her throat while he slid her panties down her legs and tossed them aside.

The feel of his tongue and hands on her skin alone was *almost* enough to send her over the edge. But then she felt one, then two of his gorgeous fucking fingers begin to stroke inside of her, slowly, so agonizingly slow. God, he felt so fucking good, and these were just his fingers. What would his cock feel like? She groaned loud and long, trying to tell him clearly what she couldn't manage to put into words.

"Baby girl," he moaned. "You are so fucking wet." He removed his fingers and she let out a whine of protest. "Don't worry," he laughed. "I got you." He knelt down in front of her, opened her legs wide, and placed them over his shoulders. He ran his nose along the length of her thigh and inhaled deeply when he reached its apex. "Fuck," he murmured. 

The first swipe of his hot, wet tongue across her pussy was exquisite. Her hands went immediately to his head. She threaded her fingers through his hair and moved her hips to match each thrust and lick and suck and nibble. She lost all sense of time as the sensations overwhelmed her--the scent of her own arousal; the greedy, enthusiastic noises he made; the velvety texture of his tongue; his strong, firm grip on her ass; the scratch of his stubble on her thigh--the orgasm that rocked her body was like none she'd ever had before.

She collapsed on the table and tried to catch her breath. She didn't have much of a chance, though. There he was, hovering over her, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth and grinning down at her. "That was fucking amazing," she said.

"Thanks," he replied. He was all wicked smiles and confidence now, and she wished she could fucking stay like this forever. He bent down and placed a tentative kiss on her mouth. 

She could taste herself on his lips and sucked at his tongue hungrily. He deepened the kiss and twisted his hand in her hair to bring her close. With the other hand he reached down and started to unbuckle his belt. 

She broke the kiss. "Let me," she said. She finished undoing his belt and unzipped his jeans. They fell to the floor and she pushed his boxer briefs down to meet them. His cock was thick and hard and flush against his stomach. "I really need to feel you inside of me. Now."

It was embarrassing how many times she fantasized about having Jeremy Fucking Renner buried balls deep inside of her. The reality of it, though, was so much better than any fantasy--the satisfying stretch as he entered her, the way his body shuddered once he was all the way in, his hands on her wrists as held then in place over her head on the table. He found a rhythm that promised to send them both over the edge. Again she was lost in the sensations, loving the feel of his deep, hard thrusts as he desperately sought his own release.

He came with a low growl just as she reached her own orgasm. After, he buried his face in her neck and tried to catch his breath, careful to support his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her. When their breathing returned to normal, she turned to nuzzle his forehead. "I won't be able to look at a library book without blushing ever again," she said.

"You?" he laughed without lifting his head. "I won't be able to come in here without getting a hard-on. Which is bad. I talk to donors in this room." She was beginning to think she could fall in love with his laugh.

They got up from the table, set their clothes right (except her panties--he pocketed those with a wink full of naughty promises), and packed up the remains of their celebration.

He was quiet as they cleaned up, which set off all her alarms. She hadn't known him long, but in that time she had never known him to be quiet. This couldn't be good.

"Hey," she said, pulling him to her. "I'm a big girl. You know that, right? I'm more than okay with everything that's happened here." True, she hadn't ever had (really amazing!) sex with a co-worker at work, but she could totally handle it if this was a one-time thing. 

"Can I take you home?" It was the last thing she expected him to say and her surprise must have shown on her face. He smoothed the frown lines on her forehead with his fingers and stole a quick kiss. "I really like you." He chuckled at her raised eyebrow. "You have the most amazing face." 

He kissed her again, this time slow and easy. When she found herself trying to relieve the sweet ache in her pussy by wrapping her leg around his to increase the friction between them, she broke the kiss with a loud groan. "I think we're probably pushing our luck if we try for round two in here."

"Round two?"

She couldn't quite read his expression, but the hard cock pressed into her hip told her all she needed to know. "Definitely." 

He pulled back to look at her, fixing her with one of those intense stares. "One condition."

"Yes."

He frowned. "You don't know what the condition is yet."

"Jeremy, what could you possibly ask that I'd say no to?"

"Let me make you breakfast in the morning."

And here she was, with Jeremy Fucking Renner's arms wrapped around her waist, her panties in his pocket, the promise of mind-blowing sex and an offer of breakfast. She really could get used to this.

"I'd like that," she said. "I'd like that a lot."


End file.
